


Checkmate

by santakarasu (orphan_account)



Category: Persona 4, Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, Family, Fix-It, Friendship, M/M, Mutual Pining, Non-Linear Narrative, Not Beta Read, POV Multiple, Post-Canon, Slow Build, Will be tagging as I go, no love triangles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2020-07-12 03:13:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19939270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/santakarasu
Summary: After all has been said and done, Akira Kurusu and Goro Akechi find themselves living under the kind of circumstances they wish they had met under.





	1. Chapter 1

Curiosity killed the cat, they said, and Ryuji Sakamoto should have listened.

“Dude… you what?”

Words spilled right out of Ryuji's mouth much like how guts did in that one graphic B-rated gory Western movie he once rented by mistake. He was pretty sure he croaked, but like hell anyone could blame him! Morgana could try, but he’d like to see how he’d do in his position.

The surface of the water rippled. Ryuji barely managed to catch his fishing rod in time when it slipped his hand. For a brief moment, he’d lost not only his grip, but his entire sense of reality.

If Ryuji’s gonna be real honest, he stepped into Ichigaya Fishing Center somewhat bummed about not receiving anything on his last Valentine’s Day as a high school student. Not even a small sticky note with a heart drawn using a highlighter, damn it!  But it seemed like none of that crap was gonna matter anyway. Not when it was seeming more and more likely that he’d be stepping out of this place brain dead.

His best friend really hit him with a bullet train to the gut with this one.

— -

Akira had really picked up popularity in Shujin after testifying with Akechi against that bastard Shido a year ago. As witness in the case, naturally, a bit of his background got dug up and broadcasted.  There was no outright mention of his name or Akechi’s since they were both minors. Still, at least for Akira’s case, it didn’t really take long before the entire student body put two and two together.

Ryuji was actually really happy about Akira’s name getting cleared. His best friend was finally starting to get the sort of attention he deserved. But why Akira had to get himself involved honestly didn’t make all that much sense to him at first. Akira was still on probation when he decided to testify. The woman he’d helped hadn’t stepped forward yet, and at that time, no one really knew for sure if she ever would.

Too reckless, he remembered Makoto describing Akira’s decision when the group decided to confront their leader about it at Leblanc. She found out Akira’s plan through her big sister, and everyone agreed to try and talk him out of it. Everyone, himself not excluded.

For the record, Ryuji was aware that he hadn’t exactly been the most tight-lipped about their being The Phantom Thieves during their time of activity. But if there had been anything he learned since then, it was that getting outed as some vigilante superhero was only ever really fun if you were a genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist whose superpower usage wasn’t limited to just some other dimension.

If it weren’t for Akechi who was able to quickly make shit up and straight up lie in court about being both Shido’s hitman and _also_ the leader of the Phantom Thieves, and how Akira was actually just a client, Akira might’ve ended up in jail.

Still, despite that hell of a stunt his best friend pulled off, Akira never really did give anyone a clear explanation as to why he’d actually gone out of his way and done it. Makoto’s big sis already assured everyone that Akechi was enough witness to make a case against Shido. She also promised to get Akira’s name cleared of that criminal record without him needing to get involved.

Then there’s Akechi. Dude really almost died in Shido’s palace. Twice. Still, he was definitely fit enough to testify against that asshole of a dad of his by himself, all right. Anyone who wanted to say otherwise likely hadn’t seen him go up against that batshit crazy-ass god, Yaldybaldy—or whatever his name was again. Ryuji had, so he knew what he was talking about.

Besides, he actually volunteered himself.  Or at least that’s what Makoto’s sis said. Akira didn’t disagree, so there’s no reason not to believe her.

Anyway, the point was, everything would still had been taken care of smoothly even without Akira. Another description Makoto also whipped out to describe Akira’s decision at that time was “unnecessary,” and Ryuji totally agreed again.

Still, by that time, Akira’s conviction was already rock solid. In the end, they really weren’t left with much choice but to just let their leader do as he pleased. They could only assure him that they’d have his back if he ever needed them.

The team did have a theory why their leader had done what he had done despite the risk though. Even though Akira had shot down the assumption after someone had brought it up, by the end of it all, everyone was still been pretty much convinced that he had decided on it out of some sense of guilt. He didn’t exactly give them any sort of alternative explanation, so there was no reason anyone was inclined to think differently. Ryuji especially thought the same after he found out Akechi volunteered himself so Akira didn’t have to end up going.

But as it turned out, Akira wasn’t lying after all, and Ryuji had never imagined that his best friend’s actual motivation was directly related as to why he was still as single and dateless as Ryuji on this holy day.

— -

The soft warm glow of the sunset painted the relatively still waters of Ichigaya Fishing Center orange. Papery feather-like clouds decorated the sky sparingly, floating high up at a leisurely pace. Its movements were barely noticeable unless observed intently. There was no breeze, but the air was light and cool, pleasant to the skin and refreshing to the lungs.

Making the most out of the good weather was a young couple still in their school uniforms, quietly whispering and giggling between themselves every so often. There were also three middle-aged men seemingly deeply occupied in each their own heads. The high school sweethearts and the three adult men fished at a respectful distance from one another. Meanwhile, in his station, overlooking the fishing pond and the fishers was the caretaker, engrossed in answering a crossword puzzle from a newspaper.

Initially, among the carefree and untroubled group also fishing were Ryuji and Akira. That was all until Ryuji decided to let his big mouth mindlessly run to what at first glance seemed to be a harmless course. Soon enough, Ryuji was anything but chill.

After grumbling a bit about not getting anything again from anyone, since he thought it was on topic, Ryuji ended up whining about why they were spending this V-day together again. Sure, they spent last year's Valentine's Day together too, but the game had drastically changed since.

Maybe Ryuji wasn't in a relationship or was anywhere close to being in one, but everything was different for Akira now. He could've sworn his friend received at least two confessions earlier today: one during lunch and another after class. The girls sought him out, and Ryuji was right there with him when they did so he'd know.

And that’s just the confessions he'd gotten today.

But Akira rejected had every single one of them. The ones today, yesterday, the day after and all before the day after that. Upperclassmen. Underclassmen. Boys. Girls. His dude did not discriminate. All rejected. On the spot. From the get-go. Not even at least one date made it to his to-do list. Honestly, Akira didn’t even look like he was sparing them a second of consideration.

What was the big idea there? A number of them were even pretty cute and seemed nice enough.

Ryuji wondered, and today, he thought he’d set off and find out. They were best friends after all, so shouldn’t they also be talking about these things? Especially since it was almost as if Akira already had someone in mind.

And as Ryuji had more or less expected, he did. 

What Ryuji, however, did not expect at all was who it was.

— -

Bewildered brown eyes gazed intently at calm gray ones as they stared far off into the horizon. Akira was quiet while Ryuji's mouth hung open as he gaped at his friend in a wild mix of shock, confusion and horror.

There was a small ironic smile on Akira's face when he finally met Ryuji's gaze.

“Crazy, huh.”

Akira's answer was short, voice a little playful, but his eyes lit up with a soft shimmer of sincerity.

The light in Akira's eyes couldn't have been clearer. Ryuji could feel himself slowly coming back to reality, guided by this unbelievable light.

“Holy shit... You’re serious. You freakin’ like Akechi.”

It already didn’t make much sense hearing it from Akira’s mouth then, but it even made lesser sense coming from Ryuji’s own mouth, in a hushed but panicked version of his own voice. They said if your brain melted, you wouldn’t be able to feel it because all the senses were in the brain, but Ryuji betted that if you could, what he was feeling at the moment was how it would most likely feel.

On the other hand, at first glance, Akira seemed like he was having no trouble keeping his composure. His hands, holding his fishing rod, were as steady as ever, but his gaze suddenly fell to the water where his string hovered and his bait would be under. With light now reflecting against his glasses, there was no telling what he was really feeling or thinking.

“I don’t understand either,” Akira started quietly. “Maybe I just have a kink for role-play and getting shot in the head with a pistol.”

Ryuji felt a tug in his chest. He was trying to joke, but the quiet in Akira’s voice said it all, and boy did he just freaking wish Ann was here. She’d know how to drive this conversation somewhere that didn’t make him feel he was gonna say something wrong and accidentally hurt that one person who’s always been there for him.

Sirens were going off in his head. He pursed his lips.

It wasn’t that he had any problem with Akira liking another dude. It wasn’t Akechi’s sex or gender that was the problem. The problem was that… it was Akechi. Like, it wasn’t even that Akechi was the problem. Just that… he didn’t know what to feel about his best friend liking this dude who personally planned murder on him.

Though in Akechi’s defense, he had been doing nothing but save Akira’s life since after then, but still… there’s just so much to unpack.

Ryuji didn’t really trust his instinct to guide him through this, but he wasn’t sure if his brain power would do him any better. God, if only this had been a game. He wished dialogue options could just start popping up right now, then all he would've had to do was choose between maybe three to four choices.

But damn, seemed like life’s “dialogue option” wasn’t multiple choice, but essay type. All he’s getting were blanks and even more blanks by the second.

No matter how much Ryuji pressured his brain, nothing came up. Frustration built up so violently that eventually, he decided to just wing it after all. He released the distressed groan he had been holding back since the beginning of his dilemma. Then he heaved a long and heavy but sigh. Not the best starter, but it definitely helped ease his nerves. For one, he now found himself able to tear his gaze away from Akira.

Ryuji's back slouched a little as he turned to the water. It was his turn to stare off into the horizon. The water rippled briefly following his movements. Somewhat, he felt a lot less worried that his best friend would suddenly just get up and make a run for it to the nearest exit if he let his guard down just a bit.

“Seems like those chick flicks Ann likes to watch weren’t effin’ around, huh,” Ryuji's brows were still furrowed, but with much less tension than before, “Love must really be freakin’ blind if it can overlook a gun in your face.”

That must have been the right thing to say because Akira snickered.

“I guess it is.”

They were quiet for a while, but this time, the silence between them was the familiar comfortable one they would always fall into. Ryuji’s gaze was soft and thoughtful, while Akira’s was relaxed and almost cheerful.

Then Ryuji thought he'd ask, “So, uhh, since when?”

Akira replied, deadpanned, “Who knows. Might have been love at first sight.”

“Wait. Are you serious?!”

Akira was smirking.

“What? I like pretty faces. Might have had a little crush on Ann and Yusuke, too, before.”

“Dude!”

Ryuji could feel a migraine coming in.

“Sorry. We weren’t rank ten friends yet when I first met them. You have to at least be, to unlock that.”

Ryuji groaned. Akira laughed.

They fell into a comfortable silence once more. This time, Akira wore a small smile, but one which reached his eyes.

“Ryuji,” this time it was Akira who broke the silence (Ryuji quickly turned to Akira), “thanks,” he quietly said through his small smile.

Ryuji’s eyes widened as he watched Akira, eyes on his cast, smiling his little smile. He knew this meant a lot to Akira, but it hadn’t really sunken in just how much exactly up until now. Finally. Relief. He couldn't hold back the grin that tugged at his lips.

"Hey, you said it yourself. We’re rank ten friends, dude. Naturally, we got each other’s backs."

This time, it was Akira whose eyes widened. He looked at Ryuji from the corner of his eyes, and seeing Ryuji grin, Akira's eyes reverted back to their normal size, returning to the pond. Akira's lips curled once more into a small smile.

The conversation seemed to die. Both young men continued fishing in an amicable silence, but just when it seemed like things would continue on like that till they both called it a day, Ryuji decided to ask again. With natural casualness, he dropped the question while leisurely watching some fishes pass by his bait, “So does he know?”

Ryuji had to say, he felt proud being able to sound as calmly as he did. It seemed like he was beginning to get a hang of knowing this information.

A ripple hit the surface of the still waters.

A fish had stopped right in front of his bait.

“Doesn’t matter anymore.”

It took a moment for the words to sink in, but when they finally did, Ryuji's head quickly whipped to Akira's direction. The movement got his bait shaking, and the fished swam away in fright. A whole new other kind of shock possessed him. His brows were furrowed. His eyes squinted in disbelief.

He looked at Akira with the look of a man, witnessing another man, taking a dump in some grassy open vacant lot at the side of a highway.

“Dude, what? You haven’t told him? He’s not in juvie anymore! Do you know where he is now?”

Akira’s eyes were squinting, his nose scrunching up, and lips pursing into a thin line. He wasn't meeting Ryuji's eyes on purpose.

“Geez, tell me you at least have his number or something!”

No response.

“You've gotta be kidding... You can’t just not let him know!”

Still no response.

“Hey, I can tell how much this matters to you!”

Akira let out a stubborn huff.

“He… doesn’t even like me as a friend.” Akira paused briefly, frown deepening, “There was so much time to tell me, I visited regularly. But then one day I just went there, and he's gone. It really... can't be any more obvious than that.”

Ryuji didn’t really get why he was feeling what he was feeling, but a part of him couldn’t believe that. He couldn't help but believe... in the best of Akechi.

“Oh yeah?” Ryuji huffed, “Well what if he thought you hated him?”

Akira's frown softened, his eyes widening and then brow arching a little, “Why would Akechi think I hate him?”

Ryuji grumbled. He was suddenly overcome with an impulse to drop his fishing rod and start pulling his hair in frustration. His voice was a little squeaky in annoyance when he snapped, “I don’t know, dude. Maybe because you didn’t tell him you like him?”

Akira pouted and was silent again.

Ryuji sighed.

“Just think about it, man. For one, he did plan to kill you. In fact, he really killed a cognitive version of you, thinking it was _you_!” Ryuji shrugged, “What’s there not to hate?”

“I don’t hate him,” Akira quickly replied.

“But that’s only because for some effed up reason, you like him!” If Ryuji wasn’t holding a fishing rod, he would have been most likely making wild hand gestures by now, “And in Akechi's defense, he might’ve been a detective, but your feelings for him freakin’ doesn't even make sense in the first place!”

Akira was quiet again. But this time, Ryuji let him be, only sighing as reply to his silence.

They were quiet for a while until Akira spoke in a soft and almost shaky voice, “I’m scared he’ll think that’s all he is to me," he paused for a moment, lips slightly parted, before finally deciding to add, "He might.”

But Ryuji was having none of this overthinking crap right now. Without even blinking, stuttering, nor pausing, he said in a matter-of-fact voice, “So, tell him that."

Akira’s eyes quickly darted to Ryuji.

“Huh?”

Ryuji’s brows were furrowed. His eyes, fixed on his cast.

“Look, man. I think we can both agree that I'm the last person here who understands how Akechi's brain works," he sighed and paused for a moment, "But dude, you did save each other’s lives,” he raised his eyes to meet Akira's, “That’s gotta at least mean something, right?” And Ryuji actually believed every word he said.

Honestly, looking back to what happened back at Shido’s Palace now, he’s beginning to think Akira might even actually have a chance. Back then, when they were fighting Shido and Akechi’s cognitive version at treasure room, Akechi, he…

Ryuji shook his head. He couldn’t tell Akira that. Not like this, not right now. This was Akechi they were talking about. At the end of the day, he could be wrong, and Akira could be right. He had no proof here and was just going purely on gut instinct.

Also, the more he thought about it, the more he was realizing he was comparing the entire goddamn thing with those romance flicks Ann loved to watch. Who knew how accurate those were? It wasn’t like he had any real life experience. Sadly.

"Ryuji..." Akira's mouth hung open for a while as he stared back at Ryuji, then he broke eye contact and heaved a heavy sigh, "Shouldn't you be telling me that I have bad taste and discourage me from pursuing my feelings?"

Ryuji’s gaze was back to his cast. He actually thought about it for a moment. Akira had a point. Shouldn't he be? Maybe he's giving the wrong advice. But as he thought more about Akechi, the answer started to become clearer to him.

“Well shit, dude. I’m no psychic,” he met Akira’s gaze again, “And you know what, neither is Akechi, so seriously, talk to him, man. I mean, either ways, after everything that's happened... I think... it might mean something to him to hear a little reassurance, you know.”

Akira pursed his lips and was quiet for a moment.

“You really don’t think it’s because he’s already… realized he doesn’t like me after all?”

“Dude, I..." Ryuji paused for a moment, brows knitting together, "I think you're never gonna find out the truth for real unless you go after it.”

That was the realest answer Ryuji could give, and the answer he thought both Akira and Akechi deserved.

Akira was quiet, seemingly deep in thought. Ryuji wasn’t sure whether it’s because he was actually considering Ryuji’s words or debating against them in his mind. Whenever Akira got an idea in his head, it’s typically one hell of a task to try and talk him out of it and into another one.

Ryuji sighed. Maybe if he prayed hard enough, he could channel Ann's spirit into his mind. Ann had Shiho; all he had were the movies Ann forced him to watch with her and his occasional delusions of romance. She had firsthand experience on her side.

Don't get him wrong though. Ryuji wasn't hoping she could replace him in this moment. Not at all. Actually, he honestly really liked the feeling of being the one supporting Akira this time around.

Most of the time, it's Akira doing the supporting, so it's nice being the one relied on for once. It's just that, if he could at least... share brain cells with Ann or something and be more useful to his best friend now that he’s got the chance...

Ugh. God. For some reason, the day felt like it was just about to get much longer.

But hey, what were rank ten friends for, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm really fond of ryuji and am soft for ryuji friendships, especially ryuji/ann, ryuji/ren, and ryuji/akechi :'(
> 
> in this essay, i will-


	2. Chapter 2

Goro Akechi may had been one intelligent, talented, and dangerous young man. However, at the end of the day, under the laws that governed Japan, he was still a minor. It didn’t matter that he was a registered detective recognized by the police force. Not even that he had been secretly sidelining as a hitman for some high-profile government official who turned out to be his father by consanguinity.

No matter which angle his case was viewed, Akechi was still a minor, and so accordingly, he had been sent to the juvenile detention center.

One year detainment with extensive therapy, that was Akechi's sentence. It was all good, except also part of his sentence was to be put under the close care of a relative or legal guardian upon his release until he reached legal age.

The condition seemed simple enough. Only it wasn’t.

Where do you even begin searching for a legal guardian for a youth driven into the rogue life so much because he’d been passed around from one sorry excuse of a legal guardian to another? And to think most of them had even been family.

— -

Outside, a wreath decorated with shiny hand-sized red and golden balls hung by the entrance door of the juvenile correction center. Fairy lights traced the door frame. They twinkled to the tune of Jingle Bells as it played in the background. “Merry Christmas!” read the glittering sign nestling at the center of the wreath.

Inside, construction paper cutouts and colorful Christmas-themed drawings decorated the otherwise plain, pastel peach colored interior walls of the building. Just a few steps away from the reception desk, a Christmas tree stood. It was sparingly decorated, but if anything, there was comfort to be found in its simplicity.

The embellishments added to the interior and exterior of the establishment made it feel less like a correctional and more of an idyllic orphanage from a feel-good family movie. This gave a positive sort of spike to Sae’s mood. The thought that Akechi had been in a good environment after the trial cheered her up somewhat.

Akechi was just the same age as Makoto. On the other hand, just like Sae, he had been thrusted into the messy and unjust world of adulthood at an early age. There had been an almost immediate familiar connection between the two of them because of these. She would be lying if she said she never thought of him as a younger brother.

Perhaps she still even continued to see him as such despite everything.

If only she had been in a better mental state when they met, then maybe she could have been the family Akechi needed when he needed it the most. Maybe he wouldn’t even have ended up going through all that he had as Shido's unwilling pawn.

Sae clicked her tongue. There was no point thinking about this now. In the end, everyone came out alive. Justice was served. There was still time to make up for all the time that had been lost.

She lifted her gaze from the ground to the reception counter. Greeting her with a polite smile was a woman in casual attire. If not for her nameplate, it would have been easy to mistake her for another visitor.

Or maybe not.

Most of the civilians who drop by here tend to have an anxious twitch somewhere on their bodies, especially on their face. This woman was quintessence of pleasantness.

“Good evening. Is there anything we can help you with?” The woman’s voice was soft but clear. There was a balanced air of approachability and dignity around her.

Out of habit, Sae quickly eyed her from head to toe with laser-like precision.

The woman didn’t seem to mind. She maintained her picture-perfect smile all throughout.

“Prosecutor Sae Niijima from the Public Prosecutor’s Office, Tokyo District Special Investigation Department. I have a schedule with Mr. Goro Akechi,” Sae said in her usual cool voice. Without any wasted movement, she presented her ID before the receptionist.

The woman hummed inquisitively as she took Sae’s ID. After carefully surveying it back and front, her brows knitted together a little as she briefly nodded to herself.

“I see… Please wait a moment.”

Sae didn’t make any verbal response and only continued to eye the receptionist.

After making a quick phone call, the receptionist returned Sae’s ID and brought out a clipboard, along with a pen. Putting back on her polite smile, she said, “Your schedule has been verified. Kindly find your name on the list and affix your signature next to it. You may proceed to the designated visiting room once you have your belongings checked by the security. We’ll let Akechi-kun know you’ve arrived.”

“Thank you,” Sae offered a curt bow, and then did as she had been instructed.

— -

The visiting room was the size of four limousines put together. Its walls were a soft and light tone of orange. There was a big window opposite to the door which overlooked the garden, but it was partly concealed by a leaf-colored lace curtain. 

High up the wall to the left (if one’s back faced the door) was an artsy yellow hand clock that looked a lot like a fancy square plate. Most of the furnitures were of varying shades of mahogany, including the round table at the center and the chair Sae occupied. She sat across the clock in wait for Akechi. Her hands were folded in front of her when she reached towards her face and pinched the bridge of her nose.

Even with security standing by the door, the room easily felt like a cozy dining area. Sae had visited Akechi here numerous times, and she had grown pretty fond of the place. Spending time in conversation with Akechi in this room felt a lot like having a conversation with him over meals at home. It was easy, sometimes even refreshing in spite of everything that had transpired.

Thinking about this now, maybe Makoto’s suggestion over dinner a few days ago wasn’t so outrageous.

— -

"Why don't we… take him in, sis?"

This was approximately three days ago. Maybe Makoto had been catching Sae unreasonably drift to sleep at the dining table during meals a bit too often, but that was besides the point. When her younger sister suddenly spoke, Sae found herself still for a moment. Then no sooner, her eyes darted to Makoto's direction, widening by a fraction.

"Makoto, are you suggesting that I become Akechi's legal guardian?"

Makoto continued putting food on her plate, not meeting Sae's bewildered gaze. She let out a laugh that sounded both a little bit forced and nervous.

"Yeah, I mean, if he'd be out of juvie by the end January and his birthday is on the second of June, it'd be just for a couple of months… right?"

Sae was silent. The surprise had faded from her face, replaced by a thoughtful look. Taking a bite off from the tempura on her plate, she exhaled through her nose and chewed slowly. Her? As Goro Akechi's legal guardian?

"Sorry. You don't have to feel obliged," Makoto had stilled on her seat at this point. Her brows were furrowed apologetically, and her gaze, glued to the floor, like a child unable to look an adult in the eyes after being caught stealing a candy redhanded.

Yet amidst her apparent feelings of guilt, she seemed decided to press on, "I just thought you don't have to tire yourself out looking anymore, and Akechi-kun… he doesn't have to go through being passed on to some stranger... again."

"Makoto…"

Finally, Makoto met Sae's gaze.

"I know he's done horrible things, sis. But I don't think he's ever been truly a bad person. Not then. Not now."

(And Sae, though she wasn’t able to verbalize it at that time, quite honestly felt the same way.)

— -

Sae took a deep breath. With a thoughtful look in her eyes, she rested her arms on the table and clasped her hands together as if just about to utter a prayer.

A legal guardian for Goro Akechi… Sae had earnestly been searching for so long. It didn’t have to be her job, but she just had to take it on for obviously personal reasons. 

Anyway, going through Akechi’s past foster family records was an out-of-body experience. It was a tour around hell much like Dante’s in Dante Allighieri's Divine Comedy, except she arrived only to see a lone innocent kid be forced to go through the seven circles by himself.

Akechi was nineteen now. He’d be twenty in half a year, but there was no way she was going to let him end up in the wrong hands again. Not even for a few months. And quite frankly, not even for a day. Even if she had to search across all of Japan just to find a candidate who would both qualify and consent as his legal guardian, she was not planning to settle for less anytime soon.

This time, she swore she would keep this young man out of harm’s way.

But of course, all these were very much easier said than done.

Akechi’s case was… complicated, and as sound Makoto’s suggestion was, taking him in could do more damage than good depending on so many factors. Though while Sae was at the very least willing to try despite her newfound insecurities, she couldn’t help but believe Akechi would disagree, and it would be a sound disagreement.

Everything might as well be too fresh, and she and Makoto might just be too familiar of figures.

She closed her eyes as she heaved a heavy sigh.

Just after then, the door swung open with a soft creak. Escorted by a middle-aged female security, Akechi stepped in. He flashed his TV smile at Sae when their gazes met. She felt a bit silly for not being able to tell his genuine smile and TV smile before when it was so obvious now.

“Long time no see, Sae-san,” Akechi greeted as he approached a seat. “What perhaps may have brought you here?” he asked as he sat down.

Sae did not return the formalities and cut to the chase, “Your detention will end in a month. I’m here to discuss what comes after that.”

Akechi’s smile didn’t falter as he filled in, “I suppose this is about my legal guardian. Am I correct?”

“Correct. I’m looking into candidates, and I want to ask about your mother’s sister, Chisato Akechi.”

At the mention of her name, Akechi’s face had taken a more sympathetic expression. He began to adapt a less cheerful way of talking, “I only knew her through hearsay among my relatives. From what I’ve gathered, she passed away only months before my mother had. Hit and run, I heard.”

Sae frowned. For some time there, she honestly thought she was onto something. Well, there went her gut instinct. She crossed her legs and folded her arms.

“I see…” Her eyes closed and her lips pursed by instinct as she let out yet another deep sigh through her nostrils. Time was running out, and she was back to square one.

“Were you hoping she could be someone who could take me in?” Akechi offered her one of his pleasant TV smiles again.

Sae didn’t cut corners and answered honestly, “Yes. I was looking into your mother’s records. A few months before your date of birth, someone had filed a missing report on your mother. It was Chisato Akechi.”

Akechi looked sincerely surprised for a moment, and then for a second, Sae could have sworn she saw a glimmer of sadness flash in Akechi’s eyes. She could only guess the thoughts that ran through his mind.

Akechi’s voice was deeper and quieter than usual when he spoke again, “…Is that so?”

Sae nodded and pressed on, “Not only that, the missing person report also had a record of being followed up consistently every year for the next nine years until your mother’s passing. I thought it was worth looking into.”

“That’s… quite unfortunate.”

Sae felt she had a pretty good idea what Akechi thought was unfortunate and remained silent.

Both of them were quiet for a while. Then Sae decided to speak again, “Anyway,” she cleared her throat, “we’re currently looking into several other options. I swear I’ll find you a suitable home by the end of the month. You have my word, Akechi.”

Akechi was quick to put his TV smile back on.

“Please. No need to overexert yourself for me, Sae-san. It’ll only be for a few months.”

Sae huffed stubbornly.

“No, I got you this sentence so I’m responsible for you. Besides,” she took one quick sharp breath, “if all else fails, then I’ll just have to go with Makoto’s suggestion.”

“Makoto’s suggestion…?” Akechi tilted his head a little.

“She's been insisting we take you under our wing.”

A shimmer of something Sae wasn't quite sure of flashed Akechi’s eyes for a brief moment, and then it was gone. Not long after, he burst into laughter. Quite frankly, rather than a full-blown laughter, it soundedmore of like a giggle. It was one of those timid and polite giggles people do when they’re pleased but didn’t want to be too obvious about it for whatever reason.

“Did she now…? And you’re considering this…?”

Nevertheless, Sae caught on, and knowing made her smile a bit. She felt a boost of confidence.

“Yes. And if my search doesn’t get me anywhere before New Year’s Eve, then welcome to the family, Akechi.”

Akechi's eyes widened.

“You can’t possibly be serious, Sae-san.”

Sae was thoughtful for a moment.

“Honestly, I’ve become more aware of just how much I lack when it comes to being an adult role model after… everything,” she was shaking her head a little when she said this, but gradually stopped. She was quiet for a moment, and then suddenly, a small silly smile swept across her lips, “But you did say so yourself, it’ll only be for a few months, right? Besides,” her expression softened, “Makoto seems to really like the idea.”

A look of thoughtfulness took over Akechi's face. He opened his mouth, but no actual words came out. For a moment, Sae was sure she misread the atmosphere until Akechi quietly muttered, “...Perhaps you’re right.” And there was a barely noticeable timid smile on his lips, reaching his eyes.

Sae hung around a little longer than intended. The two of them chatted about ever day stuff like the used to back during the days, over conveyor belt sushi. It was a nice talk with a natural pace, but Sae eventually had to take her leave.

She promised to visit again.

Akechi smiled a genuinely friendly smile as he thanked her for coming today.

— -

Sae found herself in pretty good spirits as she headed out of the detention center. It was unfortunate that Chisato Akechi had passed away, but it was relieving to know that Akechi wasn’t against the idea of having her as legal guardian. At least not as much as she thought he would be.

Maybe she was actually even looking forward to the prospect of being his legal guardian a little.

Though quite honestly, Sae still rather for it to be someone else, most preferably someone not in Tokyo, but not too far away either. Akechi could use a little environment change.

It might be better for him to be somewhere where he didn’t have to pass by places associated with all that had happened on a daily basis too soon. Somewhere where he could feel like he could start fresh and take things on at his own pace, perhaps one to two steps at a time, would likely be the most ideal.

As Sae gave these things some deep thought, it was then when she ran into another familiar face.

Wide dark gray eyes met her gaze.

“Kurusu-kun?” she could feel her own eyes widening.

“…Prosecutor Niijima.”

Out of habit, Sae scanned the former Leader of the Phantom Thieves from head to toe. It was as she did this that she noticed him carrying a small paper bag. A bag of… was that a lunchbox and a book inside?

Kurusu seemed to have sensed her staring at what suspiciously seemed like a gift for Akechi. His grip on the paper bag seemed to have tightened a little. By the time her eyes were back on his face, his cheeks were a bit redder than when she first saw it.

“Just finished visiting Akechi?” Kurusu’s voice was suddenly hoarse. He seemed to have noticed too himself as he suddenly cleared his throat after.

Sae couldn’t help but raise a brow a little. Why did this kid suddenly look so nervous? Eyes trained on him, she slowly nodded. Carefully choosing her words and regulating her tone like an elementary school teacher to her shy pupil, she answered, “Yes, we had a bit of a chat. I suppose you’re here for him too?”

Kurusu hummed affirmatively with a small nod.

Sae glanced at the paper bag again, and from her peripheral vision, she could see Kurusu tense up a little once more. She debated whether to ask him about it or not, but then noticing his face growing red again and his eyes becoming elusive, she decided to let it go.

“Well, I won’t hold you up any longer. Take care and see you around, Kurusu-kun.”

Poor kid looked startled when she started talking. It seemed to take him a moment to process what she just said, and it was quite amusing. Sae could clearly observe the transition in his emotions through his face. Kurusu offered a polite bow and gave her a small wave as they parted ways.

What an interesting encounter. Hah!  The look on Kurusu’s face almost reminded Sae of a high school freshman caught leaving a love letter on the desk of an upperclassman. If she hadn't known any better, and by better she meant, not knowing that Akechi had technically shot the young man for dead, she'd think the boy might've been holding some sort of romantic interest for the young detective.

But that would be ridiculous. Akira Kurusu seemed like a sensible kid. 

Then again, last December, he did seek her out on his own and volunteered himself as witness in Masayoshi's Shido's case. All that, just so to paint a better image of his supposed sworn enemy in court and hopefully indirectly convince the judge to put Akechi in juvenile detention center than in prison for his penalty.

She could clearly recall that specific day Kurusu dropped by the Prosecutor's Office unannounced to see her by himself.

> _ "Akechi knows his crimes. Right now, things like dying and wasting away... that's 'justice' for him." _

There had been fire in Kurusu's unusually calm eyes as he declared these things to her in her office.  His fists were clenched and brows deeply furrowed.

> _ "But… I'm not gonna let him. I'll show him my own 'proof of justice.'" _

And then, punctuating the entire declaration, the kid did one sharp ninety-degree bow that cut through all of Sae's possible objections.

> _ "Please. Prosecutor Niijima, let me do this.” _

By the time she had gotten to her car, Sae was remembering one of her heart-to-heart talks with Makoto about the Phantom Thieves after the entire incident.

A small, but quite rather foolish smile found itself on her lips. Perhaps if she had been the same person as she was back then when their father was still alive during the vigilante group's period of activity, she might have become a Phantom Thief herself.

Just after she had locked the car and started the engine, suddenly, her phone rang. Sae wasted no time in picking it up.

"Hello, Prosecutor Niijima? This is Detective Shirogane."

The caller identified herself as Naoto Shirogane, lead detective of Shido's case.

"Hello, Detective Shirogane. This is Prosecutor Niijima speaking."

"About the files you asked for, I've acquired them as you've requested. Chisato Akechi, she has been going by the name of, ah, Chisato Dojima, since her marriage. Do you prefer I have them delivered at the Prosecutor's Office, or shall you pick them up at the precinct?"

"It's fine, Detective Shirogane," Sae said as she turned on the air con, "I'll pick them up later today."

"I see. I'll be expecting you later then."

"Yes. Thank you very much."

Sae was about to hang up when the detective suddenly spoke, "Prosecutor Niijima…"

"Yes?"

"About Chisato Dojima, is she… one of your prospect legal guardian for Goro Akechi?"

Sae sighed, "Supposedly. But I found out just today from Akechi himself that she'd already long passed away."

Detective Shirogane hummed, "Yes. I hope you don't mind, but I went through the files myself. Hit and run, wasn't it?" a pause, "I…"

Sae's brows furrowed, "Is there any problem, Detective Shirogane?"

"Well, Chisato Dojima is… I'm actually intimately associated with her family back in Inaba."

"You… what?" Sae's eyes widened.

"Yes. Chisato-san's husband, Ryotaro Dojima, is a detective like myself and is the uncle of a close friend of mine from high school. I can assure you myself that he is a good man. However…" Shirogane paused for a long time, "Well, he does have a daughter he's looking after. He might not sit well with the idea of, ahm… having someone like Akechi-kun around."

"I see…" Sae absently said as she put on her seatbelt.

Detective Shirogane might as well be right. Relatives they might had been of Akechi, still, he was a stranger to them, and them to him.

But Sae was running out of cards to play.

"Detective Shirogane," she released her car from handbrake and shifted the gear to drive, "could you still perhaps arrange a meeting between me and Detective Ryotaro Dojima?"

Besides, if things didn't work out here, the option of becoming Akechi’s legal guardian was officially open now, wasn’t it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (08/11/2019) hi. edited chapter 1. changed/added some stuff. you can give it another read if you want.


	3. Chapter 3

Growing up in a household that was often quite literally empty, you either become accustomed to cold or starved for warmth. Akira Kurusu had become the latter.

Being alone had its perks; a sense of freedom was one of them. But sometimes (a lot more often when he was a kid), the company of excessive physical space would hit different. Sometimes, the absence of things would crawl under his skin, fall at the pit of his stomach, and then manifest into a sinking sensation.

Emptiness could also hold weight, he had learned early. Also, that it was cold, like an early January chill. And so actually, for as long as he could remember, he had been dealing with it the same way he’d been dealing with cold weather: through indulging in warm things—often the most available to him being warm baths.

— -

Akira must have been sitting in the water for at least half an hour. The people had visibly lessened. Old faces had gone, and new faces had come. The air at Yongen-Jaya’s bathhouse was still warm given the temperature of the water, but it had become less humid. The heat in the atmosphere now felt less like from intermingled breaths of strangers and more of from the water’s pure steam.

Usually, it would only really take him about ten to fifteen minutes to take a bath. However, lately, he’d been finding himself needing more and more of this moment of solace.

Two uneventful days had passed since he decided to let Ryuji into his little secret on a whim.

> _“I think… it’s Akechi. I like Akechi.”_

After saying it out loud, to say Akira had been nervous would be an understatement. Though at that time, words seemed to have rolled off his tongue easily enough, he had been, in all honesty, frightened.

He liked Akechi.

Akechi, of all people.

What was there not to be afraid of?

For one (the most immediate cause of concern at that time), there was Ryuji’s reaction. If he had taken Akira’s feelings for Akechi as a personal betrayal to him and their other friends, Akira wasn’t sure how he was going to handle that.

Though to be quite honest, he hadn’t been doing so good in handling Ryuji’s unexpected proactive support either. His talk with his best friend didn’t exactly go as Akira pictured in his head.

Ryuji’s words had been hanging heavy in Akira’s mind since. They held him down like the ball and chain that attached itself to his ankles in the Velvet Room. And for better or for worse, the passage of time seemed to do nothing to shake off the weight of his friend’s verbalized sentiments in his mind.

The things Ryuji had said now kept Akira grounded to a certain reality. They kept him steady—anchored him—rooted him somewhere that it made it nearly impossible for him to keep running away from what he had started believing to be the actual truth.

Sure. Akechi wasn’t in juvie anymore. He didn’t leave his new contact to Akira either, or leave anything really, for Akira to be able to make a sense out of.

But Akira knew he could really always just ask Sae.

He knew that.

He’d always have known.

But all this time, Akira had really been just afraid to prove his insecurities right. He was scared to find out for himself that, while Akechi may have taken a liking to Joker, he thought ordinary teenager Akira Kurusu to be nowhere near as interesting as his alter ego.

He… really was just scared.

It hurt him to think about, and he could only imagine how much more it’d hurt if he were to hear it straight from Akechi himself.

Only t wo years ago, Akira and Akechi were at the bathhouse in Yongen-Jaya. Just the two of them on a December night, a few days away from Christmas.

Taking their baths together late in the evening was all part of some strategy, because Akira was supposed to be dead, and Akechi, out of Shido’s radar. The less people that saw them, the better. And given their circumstances, they were the only ones who could watch over each other.

Despite everything that had happened prior and his friends’s not-so-subtle collective disapproval, Akira consented to this setup. In fact, you can even say he himself was the one who insisted on this setup.

Akira asked for it. Hell, he _fought_ for it. Against his friends. Against Sojiro. Against Akechi himself.

After Akechi had shielded him from the bullet of Shido’s cognition of Akechi, when they all somewhat made it out of that rusty engine room alive, Akira insisted. He argued Akechi should be kept away from Shido until they’ve changed that bastard’s heart and made certain of it.

They had to keep Akechi close, Akira remembered reasoning out. To make sure he didn’t cause anymore trouble and that he didn’t get into trouble himself. Though quite honestly, he was less worried about the former and more concerned about the latter. But that bit, nobody else had to know.

What was important was that the detective hitman stayed at Leblanc’s attic with him until everything was over and done with. It was only reasonable for that sort of thing to fall on Akira. He was leader after all.

It was his responsibility to look after everything. It was only natural.

Or so he told everyone at that time. Though deep down, to himself, it didn’t feel quite like the complete truth.

And it wasn’t.

— -

“Are you just a fool…? Or do you simply think you can always win against me?”

Akira only ever really realized it wasn’t a few days later, when he found himself flat on his back at the bathhouse, with Akechi on top of him and his bare fingers dangerously coiled around Akira’s neck.

“I tried to kill you. Twice. I could make that thrice. Right now.”

Rather than threatening, Akechi had then sounded accusatory. Akira could tell, he was definitely thinking Akira was stupid. His face had been placid, but his gaze was firm, and so was his grip. 

Reprimanding. He was reprimanding Akira for being too trusting.

And Akira, as if admitting to the accusation, reached towards Akechi’s face without a moment’s hesitation. He let the tip of his fingers lightly brush against the older boy’s cheek as he gently pushed the hair partly covering his face behind his ear.

Because Akechi didn’t seem to mind, he let his touch linger briefly before pulling his hand away and laying it to rest on his side. Despite their position, his movements had been light and slow. Unhurried. Gentle. No urgency. He couldn’t have made his feelings any clearer. 

Akira felt safe. And as if in understanding, Akechi’s brows furrowed, but his gaze softened, and he allowed himself a small sigh. His fingers unwrapped themselves from Akira’s neck.

Almost.

Akira almost blurted out an _I love you._

The realization hit him like that. Natural. Easy. Smooth. A calm before a storm.

But he held the words down. Swallowed them whole even though it hurt, even though he thought he would choke.

Determined to protect Akechi from the weight of his feelings at that time, instead, Akira had said, gaze averting Akechi’s, “I… I thought I lost you.”

And it was also true.

It might have only been a matter of seconds, but Akira really thought he’d lost Akechi back at Shido’s Palace.

— -

A gunshot. Red lights. Sirens. A woman’s mechanical voice making an announcement.

Akira reached for Akechi on instinct.

The cognitive version of Akechi pointed his gun at Akira.

The real Akechi saw and leaped towards Akira’s direction.

Two new gunshots. A sudden wall.

Akechi was with them, but he was on the floor.

Blood. Too much blood.

Akira was on his side, yelling his name repeatedly until Akechi opened his eyes and groaned.

Ryuji’s voice called for Morgana. Morgana summoned his persona.

Green light enveloped Akechi.

The bleeding was beginning to stop. But halfway through, Akechi had gone limp in Akira’s arms.

Akira’s stomach sank. He wanted to call out to him again, but he was scared it wouldn’t work like it did earlier. He wanted to look at his face, but he was afraid what he’d see.

“He’s… he’s not moving anymore...” Ann whispered, voice heavy with horror.

All sounds that came after felt distant in Akira's ears as his hold on Akechi tightened, and he pulled him closer to him.

“W-what…? There must be… some sort of mistake…”

“No…”

"Akechi..."

“A-Akechi? Hey… Akechi…”

"...I-is he...?"

The quiet that came after was deafening. Then suddenly...

“His vitals...!" Futaba's voice rang, "His vitals have stabilized! He's just passed out now. But, oh man. We really should get out of here now. I'm picking up strong enemy readings. That fake... We can’t fight like this!” 

Just passed out, she said.

He’d wake up again.

He was still here.

Lowering his gaze to look at Akechi, Akira pursed his lips. His fingers, cold underneath his gloves and shaking, curled around Akechi's shoulder. His shoulders shook as he fought the sobs that had lumped in his throat and the hot tears that danced at the edge of his eyes.

— -

Akechi was quiet for a long time. Then he let out a huff.

“Don’t be stupid,” Akechi had gotten up. He seemed to walk away, only to stop halfway through the exit way, “I’m not dying until after I… I bring my mother justice.”

They were quiet after.

Akechi didn’t look like he had anything more to say, but he hadn’t moved an inch from where he stood.

Akira wasn’t any different. He stayed on the ground, eyes absently on Akechi’s bare back.

It was a stalemate.

Then suddenly, Akechi said, “Besides…” his voice was soft, “you’re here now.”

In that moment, the calm had broken, and the storm had finally come, violently pounding in Akira’s chest. His mouth hung open as his breath seemed to stop halfway through his throat. Gray eyes, wide from shock, darted to Akechi's direction.

“Can’t let my rival beat me to living longer, can I now?”

With those words, Akechi finally made his exit.

Akira was left staring at the ceiling in haze. He thought he was gonna pass out.

He felt warm. Maybe too warm.

_Pleasant Boy,_ wasn’t it?

Kinda think of it now, it was as obvious as it could get. Right from the start, Akira had liked Akechi.

Though the nature of his feelings weren’t initially romantic. It was just that the detective struck him as well-spoken, intelligent, dignified, and… pretty. His skin was smooth. His hair was soft. Lashes were long. He also smelled of fabric conditioner which just happened to be one of Akira’s favorite scents. 

And he was warm. Somehow, he made Akira feel warm inside.

Akechi’s smile didn’t usually reach his eyes. More often than not, his laughter sounded hollow, too. But Akira liked Mr. Pleasant Boy’s eyes and the sound of his voice all the same.

This Detective Prince, they called him, had a knack for keeping his true thoughts to himself. But deliver the correct responses, and his mask would slip. Only slightly. A momentary glimmer in his eye. A slight edge in his voice. And he would be quick to put it back in place. 

Except it’d always be enough time for the Leader of the Phantom Thieves to steal a glance and catch glimpse of what’s underneath. And what lurked behind this mature and reliable front, Akira almost instantly recognized, was something juvenile and roguish.

It was something that sought to be understood, and Akira felt he did; he felt understood, and also that he was understood.

Akira wouldn’t deny admiring the nearly idyllic young man Akechi strived to be. It was that dutiful young detective who had boldly expressed opposition against Akira’s group on national television that won from him the impression of being a pleasant person after all.

But really, the bitterly realistic, arguably cynical teenager maneuvering that dreamy, idealistic projection wasn’t so unpleasant himself. If anything, it was him—that boyish person behind the cracks of that pretty-looking but sturdy mask that really tugged at Akira’s curiosity, baited his gut instinct and reeled his affection in.

Akira liked him. He liked that angry high schooler who liked jazz, sucked at cooking, and would randomly talk about ants and about getting all sweaty in the summer. He liked that spiteful teenager who had a flare for both pettiness and cockiness, spoke fondly of his mother and vehemently cursed at his father.

Akira liked that Akechi, too. In fact, he liked him especially.

And god had he wished that rough-edged Goro Akechi could also like the Akira Kurusu beneath Akira's own mask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edit history:  
> \- changed the title several times ( ~~starting~~ from rank 9 under different circumstances → ~~it’s~~ too early for checkmate → **checkmate** )  
> \- changed the summary  
> \- changed joker’s name (akira kurusu → ren amamiya → again: akira kurusu)  
> \- (02/21/2020) edited chapter 1 and chapter 2


	4. Chapter 4

The sky was clear and was a light shade of blue. On the streets, the bushes of the trees along the sidewalk would occasionally give a subtle sway. A handful of leaves would then after flutter in the air and fall to the ground in a gentle helical motion.

From indoors, Makoto imagined it’d be easy make the mistake of thinking that it was a good day for a stroll in the park.

It was, in fact, not.

Despite how the scenery may come off from the comfort of a closed shelter, the breeze, once it hit you outside, was chilly to the skin. It was actually cold enough for you to be able to catch a glimpse of your breath if you exhaled long enough. Makoto could tell from experience. She personally did a little test earlier, shortly right before getting in the car and driving off.

Even then, in spite of the biting weather conditions, by the time she arrived at the juvenile detention center, a familiar-looking brown haired young man was already outside. He stood quietly just a few steps beyond the gate, eyes on the sky. Parked to his side were two nearly identical navy blue suitcases, except one was small-sized and the other, medium. In his right hand was a very familiar silver briefcase, handle loosely hanging from his gloved fingers.

Akechi was wearing an unbuttoned walnut-colored trench coat, a pair of dark blue jeans and brown leather shoes. Inside, he had on a dark and nearly black sort of green turtleneck. He looked like a supermodel just standing there, seemingly deep in thought.

As Makoto pulled over in front of him, she mentally noted that he had grown taller. His shoulders seemed to have become broader too, and his hair—he had his hair cut.

The last time she went for a visit, Akechi’s hair was long enough to be tied in a messy low bun (which it had been in). Now, it was short again. But not the same length as it usually had been all the years she’d known him. It was so much shorter now.

Though maybe to the surprise of no one, it also looked good on him, as had all the other hair length and styles she’d seen on him before.

She lowered the car window.

“Sorry, did you wait long?”

Though Akechi looked spaced out a moment before, he didn’t seem surprised to see her. Instead, he offered her one of those smiles he’s so used to giving in front of the camera.

“Hello, Makoto. I see you’ve arrived. You’re actually pretty early,” he chuckled. “There’s no need to worry. I was just appreciating the breeze.”

Early? Her eyes briefly flicked to the clock in the car.

He’s right. She was ten minutes earlier than the time she specified in her text.

But enjoying the breeze? This potentially frostbite-inducing breeze? She could feel a crease forming on her forehead.

“I see,” she did not see, but saw no need to press him for details. “Anyway, let’s put your luggage at the back.”

Without waiting for a reply, she opened the trunk and stepped out of the car. Wordlessly, they deposited Akechi’s suitcases inside the trunk and shut it close.

It wasn’t at all a difficult task to accomplish. Not only did Akechi only have two heavy baggages, but also both of them had the sufficient muscle strength for the task. She had taken the medium-sized bag and allowed Akechi to handle the smaller one.

Soon enough, they were inside the car. Akechi occupied the passenger seat, seatbelt strapped and signature briefcase on his lap. Makoto sat behind the wheel.

“Radio?” she offered after putting her seatbelt on.

“Either is fine,” he replied, briefly smiling before returning to a non-smile. He fished out from his pocket the spare phone Sae lent him. He slid his thumbs out of his gloves and began typing away, probably composing a message for his guardian about being on his way. 

From what Makoto knew, Sae had her number, Makoto’s number, and the number of Akechi’s new guardian saved in that phone. Then her big sister personally delivered it to Akechi yesterday after one of the many trials she’d been tasked to prosecute for the month so that they’d have a means of communication for today. And she’d wager, also for the other days to come if he ever needed them for anything.

Not surprising.

Sae had always been pretty fond of Akechi. Like a little brother. And Makoto didn’t mind one bit. Not anymore, anyway.

In fact, she’d eventually grown pretty fond of him herself. Like a brother of her own.

She hummed to herself and decided to leave the radio off.

At this, she released the handbrake and shifted the gear to drive and drove.

— -

Akechi was technically under her care today. His release date had been moved two weeks earlier than originally scheduled. Supposedly, it was a good thing, except the memo regarding the change only made it to Sae three days before the new date.

The juvenile detention center was apologetic enough about it. Apparently, they had the notice for over a month and a half now, but as unforeseen circumstances had it, was unable to distribute it along with a bunch of other memos for the other detainees.

Unluckily, Sae had a trial to prosecute on the new date.

Luckily, it was Makoto’s free day, and so she volunteered herself as Akechi’s chaperone in Sae’s stead.

Now, they were off to his new home which was located in small town an hour and a half drive away from Tokyo. Honestly, she’s never heard of the place before. When she searched it up online though, apparently, it’s the hometown of one of the nation's favorite pop idol Rise Kujikawa.

By car, it didn’t seem too far of a place, but by train, apparently it was three hours away from Tokyo Station.

Inaba, was it?

— -

Happening upon a red light, Makoto smoothly hit the brakes and shifted the gear to neutral.

After what seemed to be fifteen minutes of driving in silence, she found herself overcome with the urge to strike a conversation.

Thinking about it now, this was the first time she and Akechi had been alone together after all that had happened two years ago.

It might be difficult to believe, but honestly, it hadn’t been the slightest bit intentional. If anything, the first time she visited, Makoto went to accompany Sae because she wanted to familiarize herself with the place so she could visit by herself.

But then, she supposed life really was like that sometimes. It was what it was, rarely working out as you ever planned.

All the times she tried to visit by herself, either someone from the group would end up tagging along, or she had to postpone because as a law student, every so often, it’d be like that. Sometimes you just can’t afford a social life. She couldn’t even count on fingers—of both hands and feet combined!—anymore how many times she had to cancel plans with her friends or exclude herself from their get-togethers.

Definitely a high mark she was not proud of.

Anyway, all this introspection only made her want to strike a conversation with Akechi even more.

“Have you met them already?” She threw him a brief glance to check if she caught his attention, and then quickly added when their eyes met, “Your family, I mean.” She returned her eyes on the road shortly after, anticipating for the change of light.

A soft thoughtful hum. She could see Akechi shift in his seat from her peripheral vision. He folded his arms and crossed his legs. He raised one hand to his face and rubbed his chin.

The light had turned green.

She changed the gear back to drive like clockwork and pedaled on the gas.

“I have,” he seemed to be choosing his words carefully. “My uncle came to see me a few days after the New Year.”

Makoto was tempted to throw him another glance, hoping to pick up at least an inkling of what might be going through his mind, but decided to keep her sight on the road.

“And? What do you think…? About him.”

“Well,” he slowly started, “he’s a detective.” Then in a quieter than usual voice, he added as if an afterthought, “I didn’t know I had a relative like that. As a kid.”

“I see,” not literally, but she felt she understood what he meant.

They were silent again after that, and she thought that was the end of the conversation, when suddenly, Akechi had asked, “And you? How’s law school at Tokyo University so far?” She could hear that polite smile she’s used to seeing on him in his voice.

Makoto could tell he wanted to change the subject, and she didn’t mind. She wasn’t exactly very good at giving pep talks (yet), and she hadn’t at all expected the conversation to steer to that direction so quickly. To think he’d become so gloomy in a span of only that many seconds. The whole matter must be weighing on his mind quite heavily.

Her brows furrowed. She heaved a sigh.

“You sound troubled,” Akechi quipped before she could say anything. He sounded more chipper now though. Thankfully.

It might just be an act—his usual—but if she played along well enough, then maybe, through his theatrics he’d be able to get his mind off the matter. At least until they arrive at their destination.

If she can’t give advice, then she could at least provide distraction. Or at least that’s what Ann advised Makoto when she sought suggestions on how to help Eiko through yet again another… boy problem.

She allowed herself a dry laugh, only for it to die out into a groan, “Worst decision of my life, I’m beginning to think.”

A half-hearted laugh.

“That’s a surprise to hear.”

And then that was it. Their conversation died with Akechi’s polite smile.

Again, they were quiet.

Things were not working out.

Maybe her not being able to get him alone was god’s doing all this time. Maybe the divinity kept foiling her plan because otherwise, she would’ve just wasted both their time.

At the next red light they had chanced upon, Makoto was about to reach towards the radio when Akechi abruptly said, “Makoto, do you—“ The moment she whipped her head to his direction, he darted his eyes away from her with groan. He was frowning. “Never mind.”

She was sure he didn’t mean for her to catch on the last bit of his grumbling, but she had anyway.

“It’ll be fine,” he muttered to himself. “I left him a note.”

Him? A note? Was Akechi going to ask her to leave a message for someone?

Before she could press him for details, he turned on the radio. It was as his fingers tapped on the buttons that she noticed that something was different about the glove he was wearing.

That’s… a hand knitted glove right there. Same color as his leather one, but certainly not leather. And, well, that stitching pattern. Haru showed Makoto herself. Explained why it’s different, how she did it differently than in most guides commonly available.

There was no mistaking it; that pattern was Haru’s customized knitting pattern, had the exact same pattern in fact as the pair of baby blue gloves she was currently wearing at the moment. Gloves knitted and given by Haru herself.

…Heh. Of course she wasn’t the only one Haru would be gifting these kind of things to. For all she knew, everyone else received a hand knitted glove from her last Christmas.

Makoto found her grip on the wheel tightening.

“That glove—” she paused, unsure what to say next. Frankly, she was unsure why she’s even broaching this topic in the first place or why she was feeling… disappointed? Yes. This was disappointment, all right. Feeling her brows furrow together, she dumbly finished, “It’s hand knitted.”

Akechi’s brow tilted upward.

“Yes?” Perhaps out of instinct, his eyes darted to her own gloved hands. Suddenly, the look of inquisition is gone, replaced by something cold, sharp, critical, but one which she was not familiar with. (Not aware she’d been wearing herself just a few moments ago.)

Suddenly, he had taken a more assertive role (or was aggressive a more appropriate term?), “You seem to be wearing a hand knitted glove yourself.” His voice was clipped. He was smiling, but the edge in his tone betrayed the look on his face.

“It is,” she paused, then continued slowly. “It’s... a gift,” Akechi’s posture slouched at the words. His face fell. Now he just looked like a puppy stuck outside under the rain.

“Oh,” he mouthed quietly.

“Yes,” she was beginning to feel pretty glum herself, and she had no idea why, “from Haru.”

At that, almost immediately, a much more energetic “Oh” from Akechi broke through the tension-filled silence that almost blanketed them. “From Okumura?” His eyes perked up.

When Makoto nodded, he burst into laughter. A laughter so hard, he started tearing up a little, and she wasn’t sure what to make out of it. Casually, he dabbed his clothed finger over the wetness at the corner of his eyes.

“Ah, apologies,” he took a deep breath to calm himself down. “For a moment there, I thought I misread the intention behind this gift.” His smile was partly scripted, but also partly genuine.

Makoto frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“Mine isn’t from Okumura,” he swiftly said. And the impact of it on Makoto was instant. The knot she’d been feeling on her stomach had suddenly unravelled.

“Oh!”

Her eyes widened, and for some reason, she found herself also bursting into laughter, too.

“Wow, that’s…” A relief? She decided to leave it at that. 

But then, that pattern. Her forehead was creased once more.

“Then who is it from?”

“A friend of Okumura’s,” then softly, he added as he reached towards the radio again and carefully pressed on the increase volume button a couple of times, “…who’s also a dear friend of mine.”

The light turned green.

In the loud blending of the car’s engine revving as the car began to pace forward and the funky pop rhythm of Rise Kujikawa’s newly released song, Makoto almost didn’t hear Akechi beam teasingly, “So don’t worry. It’s not a love triangle.”

Love triangle? Among who? She almost asked. But then as she breathed to let the first word roll out her tongue, it suddenly all clicked.

Oh god.

Makoto almost crashed the car in surprise at her realization; instead, she was able to maneuver to the nearest car-less alley she was able to spot in the split second.

If Akechi had screamed or yelled or whatever else, she didn't hear. For what felt like a full minute, she blanked out.

Then suddenly (or at least it felt sudden), there was a tap on her window.

She let the window down.

“Ma’am...? Is everything all right?" A young woman asked, her brows nearly knitted together.

“Huh?” Her clothes looked familiar. "Uhh, yeah."

“Really...?" She didn't seemed convinced. Nonetheless, the next moment, not a speck of worry was evident on her face. With only a winning smile on her face, she cheered, "All right then! Welcome to Big Bang Burger drive thru. What can we get for you?”

Big Bang Burger.

Of course.

A gasp slipped past her lips as her hands, which were apparently shaking a little and felt abnormally cold despite the gloves, flew over her mouth.

Did she have a crush on Haru?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gloves... heh. ~~_winkwink_~~ anyway, happy belated birthday to makoto!!
> 
> sorry it took me a while. the house leader of the golden deer house shoved me into fe3h hell ;___;
> 
>  **edit history:**  
>  \- (04/04/2020) edited chapter 3


	5. Chapter 5

Shirogane had called one afternoon, asking Ryotaro if he had some time to spare within the week. It appeared that there was a situation a prosecutor from Tokyo would like to consult with him about.

It was a little urgent; the prosecutor was willing to meet him in Inaba if he’d prefer that, she said, and then she gave him a brief rundown: Goro Akechi, apparently the son of his wife’s older sister, was about to be released from the juvenile detention center in a month and a half. The kid was still a minor and had yet to have a place to stay and a legal guardian to watch over him after he served his time.

The younger detective didn’t elaborate, but she didn’t have to. Ryotaro had been a detective for nearly two decades now, and it didn’t have to take one to figure out where he fit in this picture.

That prosecutor wanted him to be this kid’s legal guardian.

Of course, Ryotaro had no intention of taking on the responsibility. From how he saw it, the implication of being released from the juvenile detention center was pretty telling. The kid seemed like trouble. Now, he could handle trouble just fine; his work mainly involved people with trouble causing trouble after all.

But the last time trouble had gotten too close to home, he almost lost Nanako.

As a father, his daughter’s wellbeing was his top priority. Even a higher priority than his late wife’s, or what he was sure she would’ve wanted had she still been around. He knew better now, and everyday he strived to become better.

Nonetheless, he agreed to meet up, if only to get the entire thing over with.

Except when the prosecutor arrived, she brought along the kid's profile with her. There were photographs of him, clipped among the documents.

Goro Akechi: The son of his wife’s older sister, a registered detective at the tender age of sixteen, an unwilling hitman for that popular politician who almost became Prime Minister of Japan two years ago (and who was apparently also his biological father); additionally, it appeared he was also the former leader of that infamous vigilante social reform group who called themselves “The Phantom Thieves of the Heart.”

It was a hell of a record which should’ve only solidified his initial conviction of not taking the kid in. But those damned photographs, even though there had been mugshots among them, made Ryotaro waver. Suddenly, he found himself having second thoughts.

The kid’s resemblance to Chisato was so striking that against all good reason, Ryotaro found himself unable to shoot down the prosecutor’s idea as he initially planned.

His forehead creased, and his brows knitted together. Ryotaro’s eyes were glued to the kid’s picture. At the dinner table where he, Chisato, and Nanako used to eat together—just a few feet away, in front of a smiling portrait of his wife—he, instead, found himself giving the prosecutor a more positive response than he ever expected to give.

“I’ll think about it,” he said. He continued to gaze intensely at the photograph, and then quickly added, “But I want to meet the kid first.”

“That can be arranged,” was the prosecutor’s reply.

Soon after that, their meeting came to an end. She took back the kid's file with her, but a photo had apparently strayed from the bunch. Fortunately—or unfortunately, it hadn't been one of the mugshots. It was the kid's high school ID picture.

Nanako had been the one to find it when she got home from school. Ryotaro found her staring as she held that kid's photo in her hand.

"Dad, who is he?" Nanako asked when she noticed Ryotaro descend from the stairs.

"Your cousin. Your mom's nephew," he answered honestly.

Her eyes widened by a fraction, "Aunt Akane!" Chisato liked to tell Nanako a bunch of stories from her youth. "Did you finally find her?"

Ryotaro shook his head softly, "Apparently, she already passed away."

"Oh… then what about him?" Nanako eyed the photograph sadly, "What's his name?"

"Goro…" Ryotaro winced. He found himself rubbing the back of his neck. "Actually, I was just told he didn't have anywhere to go after his… therapy."

"Can he stay with us? He must be sad." Nanako was now directing her sad eyes at Ryotaro.

"Well… that's…" Ryotaro sighed, "We'll see…"

"He looks nice and pretty. I like Goro-nii already. If he's gonna stay here, we should get a picture frame and put this photo along with our photos, dad!"

Ryotaro held back a groan; instead, he asked Nanako if she wanted to eat at Junes for dinner tonight.

The morning after, he received a message from Shirogane.

 **SHIROGANE:** GUD MORNING, DOJIMA-SAN. NIIJIMA-SAN IS ASKING IF U R FREE THS WEEKND? PLZ REPLY ASAP. TNX. _(6:08)_

Ryotaro grimaced.

It felt a little bit too early for this kid’s manner of texting today, but he texted back as requested anyway.

 **RYOTARO:** Sure. _(7:30)_

Surprisingly, he received a reply almost immediately.

 **SHIROGANE:** NOTED. PLZ KEEP UR WEEKND FREE. NIIJIMA-SAN WILL TRY TO SCHED AN APPNTMNT 4 U W/ AKECHI-KUN AT THE JUVIE. TNX. _(7:31)_

True to her word, that prosecutor arranged a meeting between him and his wife’s nephew.

That weekend, for the first time, Ryotaro Dojima met Goro Akechi.

— -

At the sound of the door creaking open, Ryotaro’s head instinctively whipped to the direction of the doorway. Immediately, his grey eyes were met by a pair of familiarly brown ones.

It was the kid. He greeted Ryotaro with a polite smile and a bow.

“Good afternoon. You must be Dojima-san. Thank you for coming to see me,” he said.

Ryotaro found himself rising from his seat and returning the bow.

“No. It’s nice to finally be meeting you,” he tried to offer a smile of his own and then sat back down. Ryotaro’s eyes subtly followed his wife’s nephew as he made his way to the seat across the one the older detective occupied.

The kid really had the sort of face that Nanako liked, the sort you’d expect to see a lot in Kujikawa’s line of work. There was a certain softness about his manner of speaking that somewhat reminded Ryotaro of his own nephew. He looked a little older now than in the photographs he’d seen a couple of days ago. Though Ryotaro supposed it had been two years after all. His hair had even visibly grown and was now tied in a messy bun.

“Sae-san said you’d like to see me. Is there anything in particular that you’d like to talk about?”

His words were direct to the point, but the tone of his voice and his facial expression were open and amicable enough.

The kid knew how to sound nice. Like goody-two-shoe sort of nice. And Ryotaro had to say, with his natural baby face and gentle voice, he certainly put on quite a convincing show. So natural everything seemed to be that he almost missed the fact that he just called the prosecutor by her first name.

Ryotaro thought that was a good starting point.

“So you’re on a first-name basis with the prosecutor, huh.”

To be honest, though Ryotaro intended to interrogate this kid and get a fuller picture of what his deal was, he never did figure out where to start. It was true, he had committed some pretty awful stuff, but it was just as true, that he’d been through just as awful things.

No. That wasn't quite right. "Just as awful" wasn't the correct way to describe it. The kid had definitely been through even more awful things. Far more awful than all the things he'd done. Things he'd been forced to do, or so Ryotato had been told.

The prosecutor also mentioned that he’d been undergoing therapy for the past year. The last thing Ryotaro wanted to end up doing was accidentally undo whatever progress the kid made for himself, if he had made any.

Goro Akechi was still just a boy. His wife’s nephew. The son of the sister his wife struggled to find until the bitter end.

If Ryotaro couldn’t help him, the least he could do was not hurt him too. But at the same time, he had to make sure this kid wasn’t going to hurt his own kid. And to make sure they were both going to come out unharmed from this all turned out to feel a hell lot of a taller order than he anticipated.

“Sae-san?” The kid suddenly blurted out. His head tilted a bit to the side, but his expression remained friendly. He seemed to pause for a moment. Ryotaro guessed he was trying to assess what Ryotaro was trying to get at.

Seriously, good luck with that. Even Ryotaro didn’t know the answer himself.

“Well, yes,” the kid picked back up carefully. “We’ve been colleagues for the past three years. I’m also an acquaintance of her sister, and… a close friend of their mutual confidant.”

Now that bit in the end, Ryotaro found it interesting. It was only for a fraction of a second, but he caught a clear glimpse of it. A glimmer of a child-like fondness had broken through the kid's eyes as he finished his thought, with a sudden subtle tenderness.

And then it was gone.

Like a trick of an eye. Ryotaro blinked, and then the front of impersonal friendliness was back.

Call it detective intuition, but he felt like there was something to be uncovered there, so he parroted, “A close friend of their mutual confidant…”

It didn’t last long, but briefly, once more, the kid’s eyes lit up like a matchstick.

“Yes,” he responded with an unusual enthusiasm, but did not elaborate.

They fell into a silence after that, but it wasn’t the sort that Ryotaro felt the need to disrupt. Or rather, he couldn’t. Ryotaro was quite rather stunned to see firsthand just how teenager this kid still actually was. It was almost heartwarming and guard-breaking.

He’d been married and had a kid. Plus, he was a detective. He’d be damned if he didn’t recognize a crush if he saw one.

And that look, that was definitely a crush.

Or at least something like it. But there was certainly something going on there; he’d bet his license on it.

Poor kid though. Not even the tiniest bit aware his eyes did a thing whenever that close friend—or whatever that person really was to him—was brought up. Ryotaro could tell. If those feelings were meant to be a secret, then may the gods bless the kid’s soul. It would take a miracle for him not to be found out.

Either way, Ryotaro decided to pick at this topic a bit more. He wanted to get to know this kid; he really did. And this friend seemed to have a certain effect on him. 

“I see you’re surrounded by people who seem to care about you a lot,” he thought he’d start. And though it didn’t feel like the wrong choices of words, Ryotaro felt a little pang of regret as he saw sadness gradually tint the kid's eyes. For a split second, he was almost afraid he'd steered the conversation to a completely different direction.

The boy’s smile had become bitter as he shook his head slowly.

“It… hadn’t always been that way,” he seemed to choose his next words carefully. “As you may have already known, after my mother died, I was passed around from relative to relative,” he paused briefly. His eyes didn’t meet Ryotaro as he finished, “Most of my life, I’d been viewed as an outsider by the people around me. One way or another.”

Ryotaro could feel his hands balling into a fist under the table. He wasn’t sure what to say to that. He tried to think what Chisato would say, but goddamn. Instead, he realized if Chisato had still been here, this kid might not have ended up being forced down that path. Because for sure, she would’ve found out about her sister’s death, and she would have found this kid and would have taken him in.

“Dojima-san,” the kid suddenly said, adapting a completely different tone. His eyes were sharper. Voice, huskier. “You must know by now that I’m also a detective, so I’m not actually unaware of your intention for seeing me today.”

“Of course.” Of course, Ryotaro knew. That’s why he could vaguely tell which parts felt like a professional front and which part were more personal.

“I won’t try to convince you to take me in. The truth is, Sae-san already offered to take me if no one would.”

Now this was the first time Ryotaro was hearing about this.

“The prosecutor will do what?”

“Yes. So there is actually no need for you to agonize over this. I understand that you have a daughter, and I am aware that with my record I’m not exactly someone” a pause, “who is easy to trust.”

Ryotaro grimaced.

“That’s…“

“It’s all right, but since we might never meet again. There is something I’d like to ask you, Dojima-san.”

“Hm?”

“Aunt Chisato,” the kid’s voice was solemn, “what kind of person was she?" A small smile tugged at the kid's lips, but his brows remained slightly furrowed. “My mother never mentioned her. But she always seemed to have this fondness for detective shows. So when I found out you were a detective, I thought, maybe… maybe there’s a connection somewhere.”

Ryotaro was silent as he stared at the kid with a subtle astonishment.

Because the kid was right on the money.

There was, in fact, a connection.

“Chisato was a detective too. We became partners when I got transferred from Hamamatsu to Inaba.”

The kid was silent, his mouth slightly hanging open as he stared at Ryotaro, who returned the silence, but in contrast, with lips pursed into a thin line.

“A detective…” suddenly, the kid parroted in a whisper to himself. Then a soft smile made it on his face, “I think I understand a bit more now, why my mother seemed especially happy whenever I’d play pretend as an ally of justice.”

“Was she now?” Ryotaro could only mutter half-heartedly as he found himself coming to a god-awful conclusion. A part of him suddenly wanted to let out a long groan. Did he even ever have a choice in this matter?

It was beginning to seem to him that he’d doomed himself into getting entangled to this entire ordeal the moment he agreed to meet with that prosecutor.

Of course he still didn’t want danger to ever come close to Nanako again, but… 

“Yes," the kid met his eyes, that soft smile still on his face, "thank you, Dojima-san.”

Damn it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bruh, sometimes i feel like this fic is gonna blow my brain up. i swear the POV shifting is doing damage to my brain cells ;____;
> 
> *edit: I DIDN'T KNOW IT WAS DOJIMA'S BIRTHDAY. HOLY SHIT. HAPPY BIRTHDAY.


End file.
